


What makes a King

by ninetiesnecklace



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Crown Prince Fili, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fili panicks, Gen, Responsibility, Thorin calms him down, Uncle Thorin, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetiesnecklace/pseuds/ninetiesnecklace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How could he ever have thought that he was a suitable heir to this massive mountain? He hardly knew his way around Erebor and yet he was expected to rule it one day. No, Thorin needed to name another heir."<br/>____________</p><p>Fili is restless and nervous about his status as crown prince and finally talks to Thorin about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What makes a King

Fili was roaming the paths of Erebor. He hurried down the main roads that were carved into the mountain, his eyes wide open and taking in everything and anything so quickly that it almost blurred. From the mines to the kitchens to the throne room he hasted without aim, not stopping even when familiar faces called out his name.

 _I can’t do it_.

His boots continued to hit the paths and he couldn’t have stopped even if he had wanted to – the key was to keep moving, one step ahead of his thoughts and steadily increasing his lead. His hands were sweaty and he gasped from the countless miles he had already walked.

_I’m the heir. But I can’t do it._

No matter how fast he walked he couldn’t shake the panic that had slowly consumed him over the course of the day. It was ridiculous, he thought. Nothing in particular had happened. He had woken up, eaten breakfast and attended his fighting training with Kili like every day. It had all been normal but after he had cleaned himself up and returned to his chamber, panic had snuck in with him. It had started as a nervous restlessness but by the time he had re-braided his hair and planned the rest of the day he was buzzing.

_I can’t do it._

His stomach cramped as his thoughts cut his lead short. Fili breathed heavily. How could he ever have thought that he was a suitable heir to this massive mountain? He hardly knew his way around Erebor and yet he was expected to rule it one day, to decide and manage and take responsibility for countless dwarves who trusted him to do well by them.

_Thorin needs to name another heir._

It wasn’t unheard of that dwarven kings named their successor instead of automatically assuming that the next-in-line was the biological heir. Fili was aware that it would raise many questions and damage his own reputation but was it not better to resign now than to make his people suffer for his incompetence?

Fili tried to calm himself for the umpteenth time this day. It only worked in so far that he finally realised that he was back where his erratic walking had begun – in the part of the mountain where his family held their quarters. Not wishing to run into Dis or Kili he made for his room and passed Thorin’s study. The door was slightly ajar and light spilled from it along with the quiet shuffling sound of parchments being moved. Not exactly knowing why Fili lightly knocked and entered.

“Hello Fili,” Thorin looked up from a stack of papers that lay on his desk. The King under the Mountain was dressed in a simple blue tunic, dark brown trousers and boots of the same colour, his hair held in a loose ponytail. Warm light came from a small fire burning in the fireplace and additional candles were placed next to his quills and ink.

“Uncle.” Fili tried for a smile.

Thorin looked at him with an open expression and warmly asked, “Are you well?”

This simple question alone made his stomach churn because he did not dare give the equally simple answer. Was his discomfort that plainly visible?

“Yes… I’m… yes.” Fili nodded.

He should probably go. Thorin was obviously busy, even though he focussed fully on him and didn’t glance towards his papers, and his personal doubts had no place in the King’s study.

At his stumbled answer Thorin tilted his head lightly. “Can I do something for you?”

 _Name another heir_. “No, I’m on my way soon.”

“You don’t have to go. Would you like to sit down and have a glass of wine with me? I can see to those papers later,” Thorin offered with a wave to a wooden chest that held refreshments.

Fili hesitated. Even if he agreed he didn’t know how to begin. This was no trifle and called for a structured way of presenting the subject. Right now he couldn’t even manage the required minimum of small talk that was considered polite. _Case in point_.

Thorin put down his quill for good when he didn’t reply. “Fili, is something the matter?” he asked with a long look at his face.

“It’s fine, uncle,” Fili croaked, not entirely sure anymore why he insisted. A few moments more and the truth would spill over his lips anyway. Either that or his nails, scratching at the inside of his palm, would draw blood.

“Well, then,” Thorin smiled warmly and turned back to his papers.

Fili didn’t move but observed Thorin and his elegant way of signing documents. The calm he resonated stood in stark contrast to Fili’s restless mind and agitated body.

“Thorin…” he started suddenly, halfway surprised by the sound of his own voice, “did you ever…”

Thorin looked up from the desk, patiently waiting for him to finish his question. Fili’s cheeks started to burn as the words got lost in his throat. He couldn’t ask that without risking to offer insult to his uncle.

“Never mind,” Fili tried to take back the question. The beads on his moustache glinted in the candle light as he shook his head.

Thorin remained silent but stood up, walked over to the chest and filled two glasses with a dark red liquid. Grasping both he closed the distance to his nephew and handed him one.

“The answer is yes,” he said solemnly.

Fili nearly dropped the glass at Thorin’s answer. _Yes_. The strange knot in his stomach didn’t exactly vanish but eased up ever so slightly. Then, he realised that Thorin had no way of knowing which question was on his mind.

“Yes?” Fili repeated carefully, hoping absurdly that Thorin had read his thoughts somehow. It would make it easier if he didn’t have to explain the chaos that reigned his mind and heart.

“You were going to ask me whether I ever thought of rejecting my birthright and not be king one day, weren’t you?” Thorin asked with a small smile.

“How did you…” Fili said, baffled at Thorin’s awareness and the smooth phrasing in which he had summed up his predicament.

“I was a crown prince once, too.” Thorin sat down on one of the two comfy looking armchairs in front of the fire and indicated for Fili to take the other. The blond followed suit and for a moment, both Durins remained silent. Fili cast a look at Thorin, trying to assess if he had actually understood him correctly and the concise wording hadn’t been a figment of his imagination.

 _I was a crown prince once, too_. That may be true enough but Fili could not imagine Thorin to have been in the same position as he was now. In his mind, no version of Thorin existed being anything other than a majestic and impressive dwarf, even as a prince.

With another look at Thorin Fili tried to bring order into the whirl of his thoughts. His uncle looked relaxed, no hint of offense or anger in his features as he leaned back in the chair and simply waited for his nephew to speak.

Bringing the glass to his lips Fili took a sip of the wine but barely recognized the taste.

“I can’t do it, Thorin,” he said quietly into the silence, avoiding Thorin’s eyes, “I cannot be the heir to Erebor.”

“Why not?” His uncle sounded almost curious.

Fili’s voice held all the desperation he felt and he lifted his head to look at Thorin, pleading. “Because… I don’t know how Erebor was before, I don’t know how to trade, I can’t remember half the ceremonies…”

If he became angry now Fili could understand – Thorin surely had noticed all of his shortcomings long before they had weighed on the prince’s mind.

“Fili…” Thorin said gently, “those are not the things that make a king a king.”

The soft tone his uncle used only fuelled Fili’s anxiety. “But it is important and I don’t know how to go about any of it.”

He had attended the lessons, of course, but the concept behind all it seemed still so foreign to him. They hadn’t traded during their time in the Blue Mountains because they simply didn’t have anything to offer and their need for official ceremonies hadn’t extended past weddings and funerals. _I’m a stranger in my own culture_.

“I’m weak, Thorin,” Fili’s throat felt dry as the words rasped along, “I know I should be stronger by now and more adjusted to the lifestyle of a crown prince but… I can’t do it.”

If Thorin wanted to throw him out and name another heir Fili had given him all the reason he needed in this sentence. That way Thorin could decide right away and they could end this farce before too much training had been invested in him.

Thorin leaned forward and looked at him earnestly. “Fili…”

At the sound of his name, spoken with solemn affection, Fili bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering. Yet another sign that he wasn’t fit for the position. Crown princes didn’t doubt or come close to tears like dwarflings did.

“You are not weak, Fili,” Thorin said warmly, “You went to reclaim Erebor with me and we succeeded. You fought bravely. You protected the ones that needed protecting. Bard and his children are still deeply thankful for what you did.”

It was kind of Thorin to point out the few times he had actually shown something akin to courage. Even though Fili saw right through his tactic the thought of Tilda, Sigrid and Bain calmed him somewhat. Just yesterday a raven from Bard had arrived, asking him for a meeting to set up trade between Dale and Erebor and admittedly, the thought of talking those matters through with Bard hadn’t been too daunting. He was a friend, after all. Fili had visited them after normal life had returned and had been relieved to find them all in good health and circumstances. Bard had insisted he stay for dinner and, following their Da’s determination, his children had persisted to give him gifts. “You are their hero,” Bard had told him and Fili had barely waved off the compliment, embarrassed, when the children came back from upstairs. The girls had sewn a beautiful and very useful scarf for him while Bain had presented him with a sheath he had carved himself; Fili used both gifts frequently.

Still, one deed which any decent dwarf would have done did not make a king or excuse everything that felt amiss with him. Fili shook his head.

“That was something entirely different,” he murmured, “Orcs attacked them and I reacted. It’s a natural thing to do but what about treaties and politics and providing for our folk…”

“You’ll learn,” Thorin simply said.

Fili’s stomach tensed once more. It might come easy to Thorin but he was of a different kind. “What if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll practise more.” Fine lines deepened around Thorin’s eyes as he smiled.

Fili looked down at his hands still clutching the glass. It wasn’t that easy. No practice could cover up the fact that there was no basis, that he was not one bit the king Thorin was.

“Fili, look at me.”

Hesitating, he lifted his head and looked carefully into Thorin’s eyes. The smile was gone but only to be replaced by a warm and kind expression.

“You are a wonderful crown prince,” Thorin said solemnly, “All of Erebor loves you and I couldn’t be happier to have you as an heir.”

“But I’m not like you, Thorin,” Fili’s voice shook as he spoke this simple sentence of truth. There was no use in denying it any longer and pretending that he could live up to the current King under the Mountain.

“I know,” his uncle nodded, “And that is a good thing.”

Astonished, Fili lifted his eyebrows. That was not the reaction he had expected but Thorin seemed perfectly serious as he took a sip of his wine and leaned into the cushion before he started to speak.

“No kingdom could endure if it was ruled by the same dwarf over and over. The times change and so must we, whether we like it or not. Every king has to deal with the issues that arise in his time and every king will find a different answer. There is no single path of success. You will find your own way as I will find mine.”

Fili was shortly startled by the fact that Thorin spoke about his own future as well. _You have found your path already_. He, on the other hand… Fili sighed unhappily. “I might not find it.”

“You will,” Thorin said kindly but with insistence, “It will not always be easy but I know your wise decisions will pave the way for you. And you are not alone in this.”

“Kili… he doesn’t understand,” Fili said quietly, “He doesn’t know the pressure.”

Thorin tilted his head in sympathy. “It seems lonely on dark days, yes. I know the pressure you talk of all too well. It is not easy for the likes of us. We are the next in line and the responsibilities seem to grow higher than Erebor itself. But remember that you have your family to support you. Never hesitate to talk to Dis or me.”

Thorin made a pause and looked at him imploringly. Fili nodded. His doubts were not dispersed but the feeling of fear slowly receded. His uncle was right: he was not left to his own devices. It had been stupid to think he would become angry. For all his taciturn and sometimes stern behaviour Thorin had never lashed out on him regardless of the subject.

“And your brother is young but clever,” Thorin went on, “Even if he won’t feel the immediate weight of succession on his shoulders as much as you do he is still a crown prince and knows about your struggles.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that he is careless,” Fili hastened to say lest he got Kili in trouble. His personal issues had nothing to do with his little brother and it should stay that way. Even though Thorin might have a point in saying that Kili understood him better than he probably knew.

“I know,” Thorin said soothingly. “You two have a special position in Erebor and you are aware of it, which I am thankful for. I had this responsibility too and while my father and grandfather were just and honest men they were not without fault, as you know…” Thorin’s voice trailed off and he stared into the fire.

This time, it was Fili who waited patiently for him to go on. He and Kili knew the history of Erebor and about the madness Thrór had succumbed to. Thorin seldom spoke of Erebor’s former kings and who knew what he saw in the flickering flames.

He sighed quietly as he turned back to Fili. “I was introduced to a prince’s responsibilities very early. Of course things were different then. We lived in Erebor. I grew up in these halls with all its splendour and knew what it meant to be king one day – if only because I was around one more often than not.”

The way Thorin stressed the word _king_ gave Fili an idea that it meant something different than _grandfather_ even if those two concepts were applied to the same person. _How strange that must be_. For him, Thorin had always been king and uncle in one person – he lead his people like his family with strength, wisdom and a silent authority that needed no proof.

Thorin took a sip of wine and went on with his tale. “I was trained to see our people from a detached point of view. Often enough I was reminded that I was the Crown Prince of Erebor, the Heir to the Throne and not a common dwarf. While that might hold true it is no reason to behave differently towards them. Don’t mistake my words: Thrór and Thrain were kind and understanding but their underlying sense of entitlement shone through. When I realised that I began to watch my own behaviour. I did not want to rule from the throne in the main hall and close my eyes to the real needs behind the precious metal and shining gold.”

Fili nodded slowly, carefully listening and soaking up this rare story about Thorin’s youth. Imagining to grow up in Erebor was difficult, especially in Thorin’s position as a crown prince so different from himself. He and Kili had been raised another way – no splendour but honest work and a simple but rewarding life. They hadn’t felt different from the other dwarves just because of an empty name to cling to until Thorin had decided to take up the quest.

Thorin smiled softly at him. “I never wanted you to grow up solely as Erebor’s Heir. I wanted you to grow up as Fili.”

Fili returned the smile. “Did I?”

“Oh yes. The times Dis and I had to scrub you after you spent an entire day outside…” Thorin chuckled. “Heritage is meaningless when you are caked in five layers of mud and laughing with the other dwarflings because it is precisely that moment that matters.”

Fili chimed in with Thorin’s chuckle as he remembered the summers spent outside with his friends from the Blue Mountains and the villages. How peaceful it had been, how fun and how easy.

“Grooming the next in line to be a king is one thing,” Thorin continued to speak, the glimmer of their shared smile softening his face, “to teach fighting, negotiation skills and regal behaviour. Those things can be learned by anyone. But what really makes a king is personality. And trust me, Fili: You have all the qualities a king should have.”

He squeezed Fili’s hand in a reassuring gesture. Thorin seemed so sure, so certain that he was fit to take his place one day that some of this conviction rubbed off on Fili. Despite himself he began to believe Thorin. If he was right and all official ceremonies and negotiations could be practised…

“And you are sure of it?” Fili asked, somewhat shy.

No doubt coloured Thorin’s voice. “Yes. You are kind and protective. You don’t shy away from your people or avoid hard work. You know justice from revenge and act when it’s necessary. Like you said, saving Bard’s children came naturally to you. Not everyone would have done that and even if you do not see it as extraordinary rest assured that I do. As do Erebor and the people of Dale.”

Thorin’s word of praise washed warmly through Fili, taking with it the rest of his doubts. Not only did Thorin believed in what he was already capable of but also of his ability to improve. Maybe his uncle was right and all he needed was more practice to build on the abilities he already had – as Fili, not as crown prince. Fili let out a long and relieved breath at that thought. With a smile he emptied his glass, put it on the table and stood up. Thorin followed his lead and accompanied him to the door where the young prince stood still for a moment. Thorin put his hand lightly on his neck and rested their foreheads against each other in that old dwarven sign for family and support.

“You matter, Fili, and you care. And that is very important.”

Fili closed his eyes, listening carefully to those words, spoken with affection and pride. “I’ll remember that,” he whispered, gratefulness ringing in his voice.

Thorin let go of him and added, smiling, “And as for the ceremonies – that is just code and polite smiles.”

Fili chuckled and indicated a nod as Thorin returned to his desk with all the gravitas so inherent in his character. Despite their different spirits there was maybe even a hint of that dignity in his own personality, Fili thought with a sudden feeling of connection with his uncle. He closed the door carefully and walked down the hallway to his room. He had enough food for thought to last him for the rest of the night but of one thing he was sure: He wasn’t alone after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
